


Lisa Snart Saves Hanukkah

by kendrasaunders



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: And a cast of thousands, Gen, Hanukkah, multi ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5421098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kendrasaunders/pseuds/kendrasaunders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lisa Snart decides to heal Cisco's post-breakup broken heart the only way she knows how: with a lot of booze. Featuring bonding, table-singing, and the drunken kidnapping of Caitlin Snow. Happy Last night of Hanukkah!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lisa Snart Saves Hanukkah

“ **From: Golden Glider**

**To: Me**

Looks like you need a pick me up. I’ll be finding you in 5.  
-Lisa.”

 

There have probably been worse times not to check his phone. Like, maybe if his childhood home was burning down, or something. Cisco figures that would’ve been a terrible time to put his phone on silent.

The house hasn’t burned down, that he knows of.

But Lisa Snart has shown up out of the blue.

Which would’ve been less out of the blue if he’d just kept his phone on, but then he’d have kept looking at it to see if Kendra texted him and like, it just would’ve been messy and so really, he had been doing himself a favor.

Had been, until Lisa walked into the West’s foyer.

She tucks her helmet under her arm. “I read your tweets.”

That actually explains... a lot. Maybe too much. He should be better about his twitter, probably. The heart tweets what the heart tweets. Et cetera.

Everyone is staring at him, by the way. Like, just not even being casual about it.

So thanks, friends.

“Oh,” Cisco manages, with all the gusto one would expect. “Wow.”

“And I figured-” Lisa tosses her glossy, glossy hair over her shoulder. “Tis the season to be giving.”

Joe clears his throat. 

Lisa just shrugs. “I meant in the friendly way. Sheesh.”

“How did you even-” Cisco is going to remember how words work at any minute. “Figure out I was here.”

She gives him a smug little smile, and pulls her phone from her jacket pocket. “Gonna heal heartache with God’s gift to man: spiked ‘nog. No one does boozey fun like the Wests. Hashtag Merry Xmas.” She lifts her eyes from the screen. “I will be taking a cup of that eggnog to go, by the way.”

“No one does boozey fun like the Wests?” Joe says.

“I meant it as a compliment!” Cisco insists. “And also, how did you know where-”

“Your location is on.”

He purses his lips. “Got me again, Lisa.”

“So,” she says. “You coming out with me? Or did you make me come all the way out here for nothing?”

“I didn’t make you-” He bites his lip. “You really came out here for me?”

“And the eggnog, as I previously stated.”

He almost gives her a laugh, for that one. “I’m kind of in the middle of a party.”

“And I’m offering you a different one,” she says, with that knowing sort of tone. “What do you say, Cisco? Solo Christmas, or Hanukkah with me?”

“You’re Jewish?” he asks. “It’s Hanukkah?”

“There ain’t no party like a Snart Hanukkah party,” she responds.

“You’ve rehearsed that.”

“You’d know.”

There’s like, this giant awkward blanket smothering him right now. And he should really just-

He tugs on his shirt. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Unless you want to stay here-” More stares. “We’re going.”

“Anyone else?” She has this way of studying people with this... edge. It makes her seem aloof and unapproachable and entirely too cool for anything or anyone. And it’s out of place in the Wests’ foyer. “Caitie?”

“Caitlin’s fine.” Cisco can hear her flushing. “And no.”

“Later, then,” Lisa says, decidedly. “We’ll come pick you up.”

Cisco is slipping on his jacket. Wondering if this is some kind of holiday high or break-up low. Maybe he’s just lost his mind. “We’re really going out?”

“Have fun,” Barry offers.

All Cisco can muster is a look of confusion.

Barry makes a face. “I guess? I don’t know!”

“Thanks.”

“Happy Hanukkah,” Lisa declares. She grabs Cisco by the crook of his elbow. “And a happy new year!”

She practically shoves him down the front steps.

They’re not out of sight, but they’re out of earshot. So he says, “You don’t seem like a rebound girl.”

She chuckles. “This isn’t a rebound.”

“You’re taking me out.”

A glance over her shoulder. “But I’m not going to have sex with you.”

A beat. “Did I say rebound? Because what I meant was-”

“Put your helmet on, Cisco,” she says, with that ever-familiar drawl of his name. “The night’s young.”

“Am I going to live through this?” he asks.

She grins. “Do you want to?”

“Yes!”

“Then sure.” She swings one long leg over her bike. “I’ll make sure you see the sunrise.”

“Oh man.” He shouldn’t get on that bike. “You got a hair tie? Want to pull my locks back.”

She slides one off her wrist. “Always.”

He takes a moment to fumble with his hair. “Sorry. Not used to this brand.”

“You look nice.”

He pauses. “What?”

“I like your hair pulled back,” she says. She’s not quite mocking him, but he gets the feeling she’s going to start. “Come on. Quit stalling.” As if to make her point, she pulls her own helmet on. 

“Right.” He should not, under any circumstances, get on that bike.

He settles behind her. “Is my helmet on right?”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” she says. There’s that classic Lisa concern of hers. “Hold my waist tightly. I drive fast.”

He’s going to die tonight.

There’s at least a 65% chance.

 

She drags him to the kind of bar that should be condemned. 

For real. He’s pretty sure there’s a table of mice sharing a pitcher of beer in the far corner.

Whatever, though. It’s the holidays. He’s not gonna tell those mice how to have a good time.

“Shots?” she asks, before she’s even got her jacket all the way off.

“You don’t mince words,” he tells her.

“Well,” she says. “Would you prefer something else? I was under the explicit impression I was getting you drunk.”

It’s not the most indecent proposal she’s ever made. And since it’s been made apparently clear that they’re not going to be boning, he really might as well. “I’m game.”

“Good.” A nod of approval. “Good. What do you want to start with. Tequila?”

“Is that what you drink on Hanukkah?” he asks. “Seems a little cross-wired. Don’t you guys have a specific wine or something?”

“You’re thinking of Manischewitz, which is a grape juice with booze in it,” she says. “Old Jewish secret. None of us really drink it. It’s a ploy to fool gullible goyishe.”

“You learn something every night.”

She signals the bartender, who Cisco assumes is a personal friend. Not just because the guy has like, no sleeves and crazy biceps and a face tattoo. But he does seem like her type of person.

“You know him?”

“I know what he’s into,” Lisa responds. 

So. Point Cisco. “Which is?”

“Want me to give him your number?” she teases. “He’d be a good rebound.”

Cisco studies him for another moment. “Nah. I don’t want your seconds.”

“Then you’re going to have a hard time in this city.”

He stares.

She curls her lips into a grin, laughing in a way that makes the whole bar light up. “I’m joking. God.”

“I can never tell with you.”

“Sure you can.”

Lisa’s friend, who Cisco has dubbed Face Tattoo, presents them with not two shots, but six.

He tries not to gape. “Why are there six shots of tequila in front of me?”

“Oh, were you under the impression we start with one?” She innocently bats her lashes. “This isn’t the kids table.”

“What was the kids table like at your house?”

“You don’t want to know.”

He tries to pretend it’s not awkward. “Got it.”

“Drink up, Cisco.”

He levels her gaze. This, for lack of a better phrase, Spongebob Crazypants. Like, they’re barely even friends. They’ve never even technically had sex. The only reason they’re even here is because apparently, she stalks him on Twitter!

But hell if he doesn’t want to do whatever she asks him to.

He takes the first glass. “Do we toast?”

She returns the gesture. “To what?”

“To you, Golden Glider.”

As always, she brightens at the name. And that’s a particular rush he doesn’t really want to address. Not tonight. “To you, Cisco Ramon. And to your new year.”

They clink glasses.

The tequila tastes like rubbing alcohol.

Given the atmosphere, he thinks it might be. 

“Oh my God,” he manages. “I think I’m dying. I think this is liquifying my insides.”

She laughs at him. She has the raw audacity to laugh at him, and knock back her second shot. “Keep up.”

That’s a challenge. Thankfully, the instant gratification of liquid courage is enough to make him want to try.

Did he say thankfully? He means regretfully. He’s going to regret this.

The second shot is almost as unbearable as the first. And she’s watching him with this unspoken mirth, which might just mean she has a low tolerance.

“Feeling it?” he asks.

“Of course not,” she says. “We’re just starting.”

He chokes out a small whine. “Samesies.”

“Last one,” she tells him. “Bottom’s up.”

This is totally fine.

 

 

“I GET KNOCKED DOWN!” Cisco declares, atop a sticky table in the middle of of Bar #3. “BUT I GET UP AGAIN! SOMETHING SOMETHING SOMETHING KEEP ME DOWN!”

The bar cheers. He thinks they do. He’s pretty plastered, so it might just be an empty bar.

It seems like he’s not the only miserable, drunken soul in Central City. It turns out there’s a lot of them. Lisa seems to know where they all convene, which is concerning on the one hand, but super convenient on the other.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!” he yells, over the music.

Lisa grins up at him, holding his hand to keep him from falling. He’s on shaky legs and a shaky table, and while Lisa could probably catch him-

Well. Shit’s embarrassing, man.

“I think I wanna come down,” he says, with an astute nod. “Maybe puke a lil.”

“You’re not going to puke,” Lisa says, with a clarity that she shouldn’t be allowed.

He’s never seen anyone put away so much liquor. And he’s been to multiple West Christmas parties.

The woman is a tank.

She helps him down from the table. He decides the best place to fall is in her lap.

She doesn’t seem to mind. “You’re kind of a drunk mess, aren’t you?” she asks.

“Hey!” he protests, pointing an accusing finger. “This was your goal. You made me like this.”

She tilts her head. “Yeah.”

“So really, when I’m hungover as hell tomorrow-”

“Yes?”

He focuses intently on her lips. On the way she mouths words. Certain words will come out in a little “o” shape. Her lips will pull back, and he’ll be able to study that cute little gap in her teeth.

“Cisco? You still there?”

He shakes his head. “You look nice tonight.”

“Thanks.”

“You look nice every night.”

“I know.”

He nods in understanding. “I think I should call Kendra.”

“Go ahead.”

His phone isn’t in his pocket. He lets out a frantic little whine, pawing at his jeans. “Did I leave my phone in the last bar?”

“Nope.”

He pauses. “Do you have my phone?”

“Yep.”

A sigh of relief. “Can I have it?”

“Of course not,” she says, fondly. “You’re a wreck.”

“Lisa.” He takes her by the shoulders. “I need. My. Phone.”

“Cisco.” Her hands find his wrists. “You. Are. Drunk.”

“Because of yooooou!” he protests. “Just one phone call. Okay? Just gotta- You know, clear the air, tell her I love her, the usual!”

Lisa gives an understanding little smile. “If that’s the usual-” She pats him on the shoulder. “I don’t think I’m ever giving your phone back.”

He goes wide eyed. “I need my phone. My entire life is on my phone.”

“And it will still be there in the morning,” she tells him. She pats the seat next to hers. “Come on. I think you’re finally drunk enough to spill.”

“I like your lap,” he says. “You’re warm.”

“And you’re a drunk little muffin,” she tells him, practically dropping him into the chair. “So tell me everything.”

“I’m not a little muffin,” he says. “I’m certainly an adult muffin.”

“Of course you are.”

“Lisa.”

“Yes?”

“I’m a grown man muffin.”

“I know, Cisco.”

He smoothes his hair. “Okay. As long as we’re on the same page.”

She drums her fingers along his knee. “Tell me about Kendra.”

He takes a moment to memorize the pattern of her fingers. Index index middle index middle. She’s got skinny hands, and her nails are painted black, and-

“Cisco.”

He looks up. “Do you really want to hear it?”

“Will it make you feel better to tell me?”

Cisco shrugs. “Maybe.”

“You want some water?”

“Yes, please.”

She gets him a glass of water, and lets him settle in his chair. He holds the glass with both hands, the straw resting firmly on his bottom lip.

He takes a very serious sip.

“Kendra was incredible.”

“Okay.”

“No, no,” Cisco says. “I mean it. I like, really, really mean it.”

“So why’d she leave?”

He stirs his water. “I mean, I didn’t make her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I know that’s not the reason.”

“I keep falling for like, these amazing girls that just up and _leave,_ ” he continues. “Like, look at you! I don’t even know if you live in this damn city or not. And really, I probably wouldn’t have even asked for Kendra’s number if you hadn’t rode off into the sunset for the umpteenth time, and then you just show up and you get me drunk and we’re not even going to have sex-”

“Cisco,” Lisa says. “Maybe try to focus.”

“Easy for you to say, GG,” he says. “You’re like, sober as a brick.”

“I have my methods.”

“And like, that’s just the thing!” Cisco insists. “You’re so like, weirdly mysterious, and I though Kendra would be like, normal, and she totally wasn’t and like-”

“How was she not normal?”

He puts the water down. “I, uh. I can’t tell you.”

She quirks her eyebrows. “Oh. So she’s a Flash thing.”

“Uh, yeah. Sort of. It’s complicated. And it’s not that I don’t like you but-”

“I get it.”

“What?”

She plays with a lock of her hair. “I get it. You know the bare bones about me, too. It’s only fair.”

“But you could tell me,” Cisco says. “If you want.”

“It’s not about that,” she says. “I trust you, Cisco. I trust you not to put hands on me, or stab me in the back. And that’s about as far as I go.”

“Oh.”

“So don’t feel bad, or whatever.” A playful shove. “Come on. You’re supposed to be having a drunken night out. Tell me more about her.”

“She had great boobs,” Cisco sighs. “I’m gonna miss them.”

“Here, here,” Lisa says. She offers him his water. “To boobs.”

He weakly raises his glass. “To boobs.”

 

At around 1:45 AM, they stumble out of a cab in front of Caitlin’s.

“Be back in five,” Lisa tells the cabbie. “Keep the meter on.”

“How can you-” Cisco leans on her for support. “Even afford a cab?”

“I’ve got a credit card,” she says.

Cisco watches her thumb Caitlin’s doorbell. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry,” she says. “It’s not my credit card.”

“Hello?” Caitlin asks, through the buzzer. “Hello?”

“Caitie!” Lisa yells. “Open up.”

A beat.

“No.”

“Boo!” Lisa presses the buzzer again. “Then come down!”

“I’m in my pajamas.”

“So change!”

“I have company over.”

“Oooooh,” Lisa croons. “That tall guy from earlier? Is he there right now? Hey handsome, want to see if three’s a-”

“Please leave, Lisa.”

“Caitliiiiiiiiin,” Cisco says, deciding this situation needs a gentle touch. “Caitlin Snow is getting busaaaaaay. Caitlin Snow is getting laaaaaaid.”

“Why is Cisco-” She must take her hand off the intercom to curse. “You’re going to wake my building!”

“Then let us in,” Lisa says.

“Unless you’re still doing the do,” Cisco says. “We can wait.”

She buzzes them up.

Which is a mistake on her part, really.

Because the following three things happen.

One, Lisa practically busts down the door, and Cisco actually does manage to fall onto Caitlin’s carpet.

Two, Jay, thinking there’s some kind of distress, rushes out of Caitlin’s bedroom with just a blanket around his waist. Which, naturally, causes Cisco to burst into uncontrollable giggles.

Three, Cailtin blushes the brightest shade of pink Cisco’s ever seen, and that’s saying something.

“Wow,” Lisa manages, over the din of Cisco’s laughter. “You are impressive, aren’t you?”

Jay blinks. “Uh-”

“Don’t talk to her,” Caitlin says. “Oh my God. What are you two even doing? It’s so late!”

“Oh, like you don’t like to have a good time,” Lisa says. “I mean. You probably don’t. Are you wearing a matching pajama set?”

Caitlin almost moves to cover herself. Almost. But opts for stomping her foot. “Why are you even here? Don’t you have a- I don’t know, seedy little apartment you could crash at?”

“Well-”

“And Cisco!” she says. “Could you please get off my floor?”

He manages to get in a few good gulps of air. Pulls himself to his feet, however unsteadily. “‘Sup, Jay? How you living?”

“Would both of you just-” She gestures at Jay. “Go back to my bedroom and just- barricade yourself in.”

“Wait,” Jay says. “Why?”

“Because she wants to keep you all to herself,” Lisa teases. “Duh.”

“Unfair, Caitlin,” Cisco says, with a drunken seriousness. “Some of us are on the rebound.”

“And some of us just like that tall guy di-”

Caitlin looks like she might come to blows. “Jay!”

“Bedroom. Got it. Goodnight, everyone.”

“Goodnight!” Lisa says.

“Night, Jay!” Cisco says. “See you tomorrow!”

“Please go home,” Caitlin says. “If you really need a place to pass out then I guess you can use my couch but-”

“Pass out?” Lisa tsks. “We’re barely halfway done with our evening.”

“I can’t feel my face, Caitlin,” Cisco says.

“And as you are my second favorite person in Central City,” Lisa continues. “I figured you’d want to come join the party.”

“I can’t just leave Jay in my apartment,” Caitlin says. “And I’m not just going to- Go out on some drunk adventure with you!”

“Sure you are,” Lisa says. “Come on. We’ve been having a great time.”

“I’m not dressed.”

“It’s like, two am,” Lisa says. “Just throw your coat and some shoes on. You’re in fancy as fuck pajamas anyway.”

“You’re both nuts,” Caitlin says. “I’m going back to bed.”

Lisa loops her arm around Caitlin’s waist. “Cisco, grab her coat and her shoes.”

Caitlin shoots him a look. “Cisco, do not- Stop dragging me- You are like, crazy strong!”

“I lift,” Lisa says, practically carrying Caitlin out of her own apartment. “You got keys?”

“No!”

“Well, that’s gonna be rough in the morning.”

Cisco tosses Caitlin’s coat over her shoulders, grinning ear to ear. “Sorry, Caitlin.”

“I honestly don’t deserve this,” she says, trying to kick her legs. “I have done nothing to warrant this, come on just let me go back to bed-”

“Oh, hush,” Lisa says. “I’ve got a flask in my coat. You want some?”

Caitlin lets out an exasperated huff. “Well. You’ve already dragged me from my apartment.”

“We have.”

“And I assume I’m not coming back tonight.”

“Not if I can help it.”

Caitlin shrugs her coat on. “Give me my damn shoes.”

Cisco’s happy to oblige.

With a swear, she slips on her boots. “What’s in that flask of yours?”

Lisa procures it with a dangerous grin. “Baby girl, you don’t want to know.”

 

Here’s the thing about Caitlin Snow.

She loves to put away booze.

She does not hold it well.

“Your hair is so damn shiny,” Caitlin says, tugging on Lisa’s curls. “It’s terrible. What do you do?”

“See, this is why I told you not to chug the flask,” Lisa says. She settles in her chair across from them, in the fluorescent-lit Jewish diner she claims is the best in town.

Cisco just knows there’s going to be sandwiches involved.

“You told me to drink it!” Caitlin says.

“You did, Lee,” Cisco adds. “You said ‘Caitlin Snow, I hereby command you to get White Girl Wasted.’”

Caitlin gestures in something like agreement.

“Well I didn’t know she was such a lil lightweight,” Lisa says, wrinkling her nose. “I mean, you’re tall! Your boobs are decent sized. You should be able to hold your liquor.”

Caitlin looks down at her chest. “What do boobs have to do with it?”

“We should study that,” Cisco says.

“We should,” she agrees.

Lisa takes a pickle from the little bowl in front of them. “Both of you. Eat your pickles.”

“But I don’t like pickles,” Caitlin says.

“It’s part of the traditional meal,” Lisa says. “The 3:00AM Hanukkah. Eat up.”

They resolutely take their pickles.

“Hey, do you think I should text Jay?” Caitlin asks. She gives her pickle a small poke with her tongue. Curls her lip in disgust. “Ugh.”

“Oh,” Lisa says, having already finished her first pickle. “He’s been texting you since we left. I think he’s worried.”

“What?!” 

“Lisa’s the keeper of the phones,” Cisco explains. “She knows all.”

“But-” Caitlin seems like she may flail out of her seat. “Jay!”

“Don’t worry,” Lisa says. “I’ll text him back right now. Passcode?”

“Her birthday,” Cisco says.”

“Cisco!”

“Well it is!”

“Got it,” Lisa says. “Hold on. How’s this sound: ‘Hey Bae! Out with the friends. Lil tipsy. Thinking of u. XX.’”

“I’d never say that,” Caitlin protests. “Not even drunk.”

“Okay well, you just did,” Lisa says. “And I added the little kissy face emoji for good measure.”

“Good call,” Cisco says.

“Thank you.”

“Oh,” Lisa says. “He’s calling you.”

“Give me my phone!” Caitlin says.

“Eat your fucking pickles!”

“Fine!” She takes the unhappiest bite of pickle that anyone has ever taken in the history of ever. “God! Ew! Happy?”

Lisa passes her the phone. “Honestly, yes.”

“Jay!” Caitlin says, clutching her phone to her cheek. “Oh God, Jay. They kidnapped me and they’re making me eat pickles.”

Mumbling on the other end.

“She had a flask and I drank all of it,” Caitlin says. “She made me! She’s evil.”

“Guilty,” Lisa says.

“No, no, I don’t need you to come get me. I think I’m kind of having fun.”

“Be still my heart,” Cisco adds.

“I know, right?”

“Both of you shh!” Caitlin says. “I’m sorry. Just spend the night, please? I don’t have keys and pickles are the worst thing in the world.”

“Tell him you love him,” Cisco says. “Jay! Jay, I love you!”

“Bye!” Caitlin says. “Bye, you’re the best!”

Lisa takes the phone back before more mistakes can be made.

“There,” Lisa says, slipping the phone back into her coat pocket. “All settled.”

“Can I eat something else, now?” Caitlin asks.

“The sandwiches will be here in a second, quit whining,” Lisa says. “And besides. Tell us all about Jay. What’s he like, you know...” She gives a filthy little look. “Under those sheets?”

“Oh my God!” Caitlin says. “That’s so inappropriate. I barely even know you!”

“You can tell me, though,” Cisco says. “It’s important that you share these sorts of things.”

Caitlin runs her hands through her hair. “He’s-” She nibbles her lip. And slowly, she makes a rather impressive estimate with her hands.

“Holy shit,” Cisco says.

Lisa roars with laughter. “I was just asking if he was any good!” she says. “Not for size estimates! But for real. That’s impressive. How did it fit?”

“Fine!” Caitlin snaps. “Jeez! I’m not like, an Ice Queen! I had a husband, you know!”

She pauses.

“Oh,” Lisa says. “What happened?”

Caitlin sniffles. “Ronnie...”

“Shit,” Lisa says. “Shit. Waiter, Manischewitz?”

Cisco gives her a glance. “You said that was fake wine!”

“For me, sure,” Lisa says. “For Caitie? It’s gonna be the cure to what ails her.”

“I don’t want wine,” Caitlin whines. “I want my husband back.”

“Well I can only do one thing,” Lisa says. “So you’re just gonna have to deal, sweetie.”

“It did fit,” Caitlin says, again. Topics seem to be a bit of a struggle for her right now. “It fit really well.”

“Gross,” Cisco says. Sympathetically. Of course.

“You two are by far the messiest drunks I know,” Lisa says. “Can’t even handle the Festival of Lights.”

“I’ve honestly lost track of how much I’ve had to drink,” Cisco says. 

“Oh good,” Lisa says. “Then I’m doing my job right.”

“I’m really hungry,” Caitlin says. The waiter has gotten her wine faster than even the Flash could, which probably says something about this place. She drinks it with both hands around the glass. “This tastes too sweet.”

“Drink it,” Lisa says. “You’ll feel better.”

“I was promised pastrami on rye,” Cisco says. “That’s what my real concern is.”

“It’s coming,” Lisa says. “But soup first.”

“Soup?”

“Matzot ball,” she says. “Hope you came hungry.”

And as the soup is placed in front of him, with the happy little matzot ball bouncing in the waves, Cisco finds that he’s never actually been so famished in his whole life.

“I love soup,” Caitlin says. She sounds pretty sure about it.

“And I love you,” Lisa says. “Eat up.”

“You love me?”

Lisa just laughs.

 

 

The sun is too bright. Cisco knows this with the utmost certainly, as he knows that his phone has been haphazardly shoved into the front pocket of his jeans.

Also, he’s practically on top of Caitlin. Hawkward.

“Sorry!” he yells, as she shrieks in some combo of shock and horror.

“Get off!” she insists. “Oh God! Where are we?”

“I think we’re in-” He looks around. “Lisa’s apartment?”

“She has an apartment this nice?” Caitlin says.

Someone is banging on the bedroom door. “Lisa?” Cisco asks.

“Who the FUCK is Lisa?” yells the person on the other side.

That gets Caitlin and Cisco up pretty damn quick.

“She dropped us off in a strangers apartment,” Caitlin says. “Didn’t she?”

“Yep.”

“And she locked the bedroom door before-” Caitlin sighs in relief. “Fire escape.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“Who the fuck are you people?” yells the stranger. “Why does this keep happening?”

“Sorry!” Caitlin says. “We’ll send you the check for a locksmith!”

“I can’t feel my brain,” Cisco says. “Oh my God. Where the hell is Lisa?”

“Who is Lisa?!”

“Stop yelling!” Cisco says. “We get it! We’re trespassing! Jesus Christ.”

“Some people,” Caitlin says.

“No respect.”

“Get out of my apartment!”

“We’re GOING!” Cisco yells. “Oh my GOD!”

“Did we rob a jewelry store last night?” Caitlin asks. “Like, after the diner? I don’t really remember.”

“We wouldn’t-” He reaches for his phone, and finds a pair of earrings. “Oh my God.”

“We have to get out of here.”

“Yes.” 

“We have to never go out with Lisa again.”

“I’m calling the cops!”

“Good!” Cisco says. “Call them! Cops love me!”

“Cisco!”

“Right.”

He doesn’t manage to check his phone.

 

“ **From: Golden Glider**

**To: Me**  
You’ll find the right person. Sorry she’s not me.  
Love, Lisa.”  
  


 

 


End file.
